#sorry it took me a hot minute to answer you!

[novaaaaaa-writes]

comfort and coffee

requested by the marvelous @urbanflorals!!

genre: fluff, comfort

warnings: panic attack

pair: avery kylie grambs x jameson winchester hawthore

“I- I’m so sorry, could you repeat that?”

Avery smiled at the flustered barista’s expression. It wasn’t every day you met some of the richest teenagers in America. Avery knew the feeling. 

“An iced americano, an iced mocha, and two almond croissants,” Jameson said with a smirk directed at the barista, who blushed tomato red. Jameson Winchester Hawthorne had an effect on people, and he knew it.

“That’ll be fourteen dollars and ninety-four cents.” The barista rang them up and grabbed two pastry bags. She hurried to give them a couple of almond croissants from the glass case in front of her (nearly dropping one in the process), while her coworker chuckled and started on their coffees. 

Avery almost laughed but cleared her throat to stop herself. “Thank you.”

The cafe had no other customers except a girl studying at one of the little wooden tables. She had headphones on and seemed to be in her own world, barely noticing her surroundings. Avery and Jameson waited on the other side of the cafe and grabbed their drinks a few minutes later. Avery spotted the barista furiously typing away on her phone.

They sat outside the cafe at a little white table with a design that reminded Avery of lace. She took a sip of her coffee. “Want some?” she asked, holding the cup out to Jameson. 

He tried a bit, stared at the cup, and handed it back to her. “That’s all yours, Heiress. Way too bitter for me”

Before Avery could respond, a bulky white van pulled up by the cafe. She heard the click of a camera. 

“Look alive, I think that’s the press.”

◈ ◆ ◈ ◆ ◈ ◆ ◈ ◆ ◈

The paparazzi only got worse, so bad that they spotted the cafe manager talking to the barista outside, who was getting increasingly paler. She caught Avery’s eye and mouthed, I’m so sorry.

Oh, Avery realized. What the barista was typing on her phone was probably a social media post, and the press must’ve seen it. 

But oh, God, there were too many cameras. Too many flashes. Too many people watching.

Click. Click. Click.

Until they turned into gunshots, two exactly, one after the other, hitting the nonexistent tree in front of her. Bark exploding, Jameson on top of her, a sharp pain in her collarbone. A missed shot that would haunt Avery forever. 

She was breathing heavily, back slick with cold sweat. Too hot and too cold at the same time. Twin gunshots repeating over and over in her head. 

Jameson looked at her from across the table, like he could read her, could tell what was happening. And honestly? He probably could.

Avery reached for Jameson’s hand, entwining their fingers together. To the paparazzi, it would look like a touching moment of young love. Perfect and picturesque. With the pad of her thumb, she spelled out an O, and then a R, followed by a W, in the palm of his hand. Their code for overwhelmed. 

Jameson’s green eyes softened. As he created a great show of ease, he let go of her hand and rose from his chair. Gathering their coffee cups and almond croissants, he hooked his arm through Avery’s and led her away from the cafe.

They walked in silence to Jameson’s car, a sleek black Porsche. Jameson pulled the keys out of his jeans pocket and unlocked the car, first opening the passenger door for Avery, and then entering the driver’s seat. 

Avery was still shaking, trying to calm her nerves down as she breathed in and out, the breaths coming out too fast. She wasn’t a crier, but her throat was clogging up like she was about to. Her black top felt as if it was suffocating her. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Avery,” Jameson said. He placed the coffee into the cup holders and shoved the croissant bag into the glove compartment before taking her shoulders. “What happened there?” he asked.

“The paparazzi,” Avery choked over the lump in her throat. “Too many cameras and people.”

Jameson didn’t seem too impressed with that answer, but he leaned over the central console and wrapped his arms around her. “Heiress,” he whispered, holding her close. “It’s okay.” 

Avery felt safe in her boyfriend’s arms, fingers running through her hair and gentle words murmured to her. The gunshots finally quieted down.

“Are you okay?” Jameson asked as he let go and sank back in his seat, feet settling on the dashboard.

“Fine.”

“Alright.” He pulled his feet down and sat up, reaching for his keys again. “Seatbelt on, Heiress.”

“Where are we going?” 

“Somewhere quieter,” was his only reply as he revved up the engine and pulled out of his parking space.

◈ ◆ ◈ ◆ ◈ ◆ ◈ ◆ ◈

“Tahiti, Heiress,” Jameson said half an hour later as they drove down the highway.

He called Tahiti. There wasn’t any avoiding it. 

Avery sighed. “The cameras clicking…they reminded me of the time I was shot at. When we were in the Black Wood.” She turned her head to look at him before saying, “I can still hear the gunshots in my head sometimes.”

Jameson gave her a quick glance in the rearview mirror before moving his eyes back on the road. He reached out and squeezed her hand gently, one hand still on the steering wheel. Avery took that as a sign to continue.

“It makes me feel like I’m in danger all over again, and my mind goes to a scenario when I really am unsafe and you’re not there with me like last time-”

“Avery,” Jameson stopped her, his voice gentle. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. “There’s no need to worry about that because I sure as hell will always be there to protect you. That’s an oath.”

Avery gave him a small smile. “Did you rehearse that?”

He ran his thumb over Avery’s wrist before letting go of her hand. “What can I say? I made that oath that night in the Black Wood.”

“Thank you, Jameson. Really.” 

Jameson made a final turn before parking and switching the engine off. “Anytime, Heiress.”  

He unlocked the car and opened the driver’s seat door, stepping outside. Avery heard the tap of his sneaker-clad footsteps on the pavement as he moved around the car to her door and opened it for her. Jameson took her hand with a crooked grin and helped her out of the car. 

Avery looked around her, her eyes taking in the sight of sand scattered across the ground, teal, glass-clear waves colliding with the shore.

“You took me to…the beach?” Avery asked, eyes wide but blank, trying for a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Yeah.” Avery saw his grin falter, and he scratched the back of his head.

Avery loved the beach. It reminded her of when she was little, taking trips to the shore with her mom. She was too overwhelmed to show that, though, so she took Jameson’s hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Want your coffee?” Jameson pulled the car door open again and reached for the takeaway coffee cups. 

“Yes, please.”

He grabbed her iced americano and his mocha from the cup holders before closing the door with his foot. It shut with a soft thud, and if Avery were any more freaked out she would’ve started hearing gunshots again.

They walked near the shore in silence, prints in the sand trailing behind them. 

Jameson unlaced his sneakers and pulled off his socks, shoving them into his shoes, and stepped into the water. It sloshed around his ankles, and some seeped through the hems of his jeans. Avery watched as he breathed in the salty air and stretched, his back muscles flexing. 

He turned his head and caught her staring.

“You coming?” Jameson asked with a smirk that told her he wanted to tease her but had stopped himself.

Avery looked away and unzipped her boots, setting them a few yards away from the shore and wading her feet in the water. She moved to where Jameson was standing, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, steadying her. 

They watched the waves for a few minutes until Avery’s rush of adrenaline died down. Her legs started to feel wobbly, and she grabbed onto Jameson’s arm before she fell. He led her to a dry part of the sand and sat them down. She sat cross-legged on the shore while he stretched his legs out in front of him, pulling her close.

It might’ve been something in the salty air, or the soft surge of the water and the distant screech of a seagull, but Avery’s nerves finally calmed down. Her breathing slowed.

“Jameson,” Avery said, lifting her head off his shoulder.

“Yes?” he asked as he watched the blue-green waves crash the shore and move back, over and over again.

“Thank you.”

Jameson leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on her lips, soft and slow. 

“Anything for you, Heiress.” 

[artystaroc]

It was great! I loved Pomni and Gummigoo. Who doesn't enjoy tapping into some good ol' existential dread? Pomni comforting him and sharing her own feelings with him was sooooo sweet! And of course I was furious when Caine blipped him out of existence. I new it was coming but by god was it still upsetting. That was probably the point tho lol

And JAX. Ohhh boy, he was about as chaotic as I expected he'd be and I loved every second he was on screen!! Just look at him! The bloodlust in his eyes is Tangible

Ragatha and Kinger had some wonderful sweet moments too. I'm so happy that Kinger seems to have a wise father figure situation going on, even if he's forgetful and not always mentally present. The vibes are so good there

Overall, an excellent episode and I already can't wait for the next one!

[thetarttfuldickhead]

what if, one match while jamie's being a prick, winding up the opposing team like only he can, one of the guys on the opposite team takes their frustrations with him too far and takes a swing at him, making contact with his face before anyone can stop him. jamie goes down, and some of the richmond boys are pulling the other guy away while some stay behind to check on him. I'd imagine jamie would get taken off the pitch to get checked out, since it's a hit to the head. what do you think roy's and keeley's reactions would be?

When it happens, it happens quickly.

It's the third game of the season, and Jamie’s in rare form. Has been ever since training resumed after the summer break, really, somehow bringing his very best great teammate game and his prince prick of all pricks game to every match. Once he’d needed a signal; these days he just knows when it’s time to pass the ball and when it’s time to bear down on the goal like fucking Nemesis.

Like something’s settled in him, slid into place.

It’s fucking gorgerous to watch, Roy thinks, nodding approvingly as Jamie slides the ball back to Sam with a deft twist of his ankle.

Unsurprisingly, today’s opponents do not agree. It’s an even game, 2-2 with only ten minutes left to go, and when United takes the ball off of Bumbercatch and initiates their own attack (fortunately ending in the ball going over the sidelines and a thrown-in for Richmond) that’s when Jamie decides it’s time to kick things up a notch and go full prick. Roy watches him jog up to United’s Westerly (whom he has been more or less been running circles around the entire match) and mutter something to him, grinning in that way that used to drive Roy up the fucking wall (still does on occasion), and Westerly—

—fucking swings at him, and before Roy can fully process what is happening Jamie’s down on the grass and players from all over the pitch is running over to hold Westerly back and hold Isaac back as he charges at Westerly and the sound of the whistle is shrill over the roars from the stands and there’s the red card and Sam and Dani are both kneeling by Jamie’s side as the rest of the two teams are either getting all up in each others faces or trying to pull each other away and Jamie is not getting up and—

Roy doesn’t realize that he’s moving before a firm hand on his arm holds him back. “Can’t go on the pitch, Coach,” Beard cautions. “Medic will check on him.”

Truthfully, Roy isn’t fully sure if he was moving to check on Jamie or to punch Westerly in the balls, but Beard’s calm voice cut through the red mist somewhat. He takes a deep breath, calling on the exercises Dr. Fieldstone has had him practising for the better part of the summer. They don’t help much, perhaps, but they do help.

The medical staff is already making their way over to Jamie and thank fucking God he’s rolling over on his back and seems to try to sit up only Sam’s holding him down. Looks like there’s blood on his face but if he’s moving then he’s not fucking dead, is he, or paralyzed and Roy doesn’t need to throw his career away to run over there and break Westerly’s fucking neck even though he can already imagine how fucking satisfying the sound of it snapping would be and—

Roy closes his eyes. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold.

Football is a contact sport. Getting knocked down is all part of the game. Emotions run high during a match, all that adrenaline, and fuck knows Roy’s been fouled more times than he can count. He knows, too, that Jamie can take a hit as well as anyone – but that wasn’t just rough play gone a little too far, that was a deliberate fucking punch to the face and this isn’t fucking ice hockey, is it, that shit is not fucking on.

Even so, Roy’s surprised to realize how angry he is. After all, he’s punched Jamie in the face himself, and that wasn’t even half a year ago.

That was different, somehow. For one, Jamie didn’t need to be led of the pitch and sat down on the grass just a couple of meters away from Roy as Nate tells Roberts to get warm and is it really déjà vu if you know for a fact just what the situation reminds you off?

His phone buzzes. He pulls it out, mostly for a distraction while the medical staff try to stop the nosebleed and check Jamie for concussion.

A text from Keeley. Is he okay???

Before he has time to even begin typing an answer, she’s calling him, and he can’t not answer, can he? Not when he understands how worried she must be, stuck far above it all in the VIP box.

“Hey.”

“Is he all right?” She sounds breathless, tense.

He wonders if that ought to make him jealous. It doesn’t; if anything, it feels good that they’re in this together, just like it had back in Manchester when they conspired (badly) to bring Jamie out of his funk.

“I don’t know. I mean, he’s not fucking dead.” It comes out harsh, but he trusts that Keeley knows him well enough to know why.

“Are they not telling you what’s going on? You’re the fucking coach!” Harsh, but he knows Keeley well enough to know why.

“Have to let the medical staff do their job first. They’re still checking him out, can’t fucking crowd them.”

Jamie’s still sitting up, at least, and while he looks a little dazed he seems responsive enough to the medics’ questions. One of them glances over their shoulder at Roy, which Roy takes as an invitation to move over.

“Hang on,” he mutters into the phone before turning to the medic. “Well?”

“The nose isn’t broken,” she tells him. “We can’t rule out concussion yet, though, so he’s not going back out there. Besides, he’s still bleeding.”

Jamie looks like he maybe wants to argue but thinks better of it. Roy doesn’t know if that has anything to do with the quelling look he gives the younger man. I’m fine with him playing hurt, he’d told Ted not long ago, but Beard had had a point then, hadn’t he? And Dr. Fieldstone, too, when she’s gently but persistenly questioned how well pushing himself to just keep going through any and all pain had actually worked out for him.

“Yeah, okay,” Roy says, acknowledging the medic’s verdict with a jerk of his head. He glances over at Nate, who nods and motions for Roberts to go on.

Then Roy turns back to Jamie, only to find Jamie looking up at him, his face and shirt a mess of blood and dirty smudges.

“How are you feeling?” Roy asks. “Keeley wants to know too,” he adds, holding up his phone to demonstrate.

Jamie smiles a little at that, and Roy feels something in his chest loosen. “I’ll be fine, Coach, Keeley,” Jamie assures him – them. His voice is almost completely steady.

Roy nods sharply. “Yeah, you will.” He reaches down to squeeze Jamie’s shoulder, once. “Great playing out there today. It’s no wonder that fucking arsehole punched you, because there’s no other way he could ever have put a fucking stop to you, yeah?”

He’s rewarded with another smile, slightly bigger this time, and then the medical staff move to take Jamie away and Roy is walking back to the other coaches, speaking into his phone: “He’ll be all right. Might have a concussion, though.”

Keeley lets out a long sigh, almost like a sob. Roy can hear her tell Rebecca that Jamie’s going to be fine, and then she’s back in his ear, fear giving way to both fury and relief: “I’m still taking my stiletto heel to that fucking wanker Westerly if I ever get the chance. Do you think we should go to his place after the game, or should we bring him to mine? Jamie, I mean, not the wanker.” When Roy doesn’t immediately answer, she adds, “We have to watch over him, right? Make sure he doesn’t fall asleep or play video games or something?”

“Don’t think you actually have to do that,” Roy says, but before she can protest, he adds: “But yeah, of course we’ll fucking watch over him.”

Of course they fucking would.

[journey-to-the-attic]

sdjbfkdshk i 4got that saying thot instead of thought isn't just an inside joke me n my friends have sorry 😭 ✋ i would never call you a thot (unless u wanted me too...)

that aside the angst is SOOOO good bro (gn). i was thinking actually that if ik is stained by the brothers' sins maybe she starts mirroring what they did when they had their sin stuff going on?? like bc levi went to hide in the lake maybe ik goes to there (and then levi has to fish her out before she drowns herself 😭)

i was acc thinking belphie would do the puttin to sleep part?? like he has special avatar of sloth magic. idk i was just imagining ik spiralling and he like hugs her and uses his magic to just sort of gently get her to rest...

can we get an amen for dadcifer though 🙏 he must be absolutely going thru it rn his poor daughter

no worries! i wouldn't really have minded either way, to be honest

that aside - these are really cute (and also really sad)!! i really like idea of belphie being the one to put her to sleep actually, he probably has some kind of special sloth magic that he'd use to watch over her dreams or something to keep her sleep peaceful :')

also yeah lucifer would be having such a bad time. he's been having a bad time since he first getting the whole pride flare-up thing, with only a brief period of relief between recovering and ik abruptly going off the deep end. he's probably blaming himself entirely for this happening (seeing the state ik was in before being put to sleep is probably one of the few things that could make him shed a tear)

i have been thinking on and off about how ik's whole situation would be resolved! and this is admittedly sorta similar to 'the long nightmare' in jtta, but the idea is that the brothers (+solomon bc i think his relationship with ik is especially important in this nightbringer situation) would enter her 'inner world' using some kind of ritual originating with sonno (ik's in deep sleep at this point, sonno's whole thing is dreams)

basically once in ik's own dreamscape (so to speak), she's been split into seven 'fragments', each holding and/or representing a piece of her soul - each brother encounters a fragment that's trapped in an empty memory of when she was trying to save each of them -asmo's is digging through the shattered remains of the glass coffin he was asleep in, satan's is wandering in the castle where he had his whole d&d showdown with his brothers, mammon's is hiding in the celestial realm's gardens

the idea is that the brothers have to do for the fragments as ik did for them at the time, thus removing the 'stain' of their sin. at that point the ik apparition disappears, and they're left with what i'm picturing as a sort of crystal piece? once each brother has recovered their fragment, solomon puts them back together - puts her 'soul' back together - which brings back their ik as they know her, without the sins affecting her, but still with her own personal anguish in tow

at that point i think solomon would reassure her (i can imagine ik would be afraid of waking up and facing everything again), lucifer in particular would probably have a moment to properly apologise. basically it's all very sappy and then the crystal pieces properly meld together - putting ik's 'heart' back together - at which point she wakes up

(i feel like there's a fnaf 'i will put you back together joke' to be made here)

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

oh the ones I wanted to send are taken already UHM.. Wrightdot and/or Franmaya? (the latter isn't my cup of tea but I'm interested to hear your thoughts on it!)

HELLO, GRACE, MY DARLING FRIEND GRACE 💖💕💕💞♥️💝❤️💗❤️💖💖💕💝💞♥️💗💞 Thank you for the ask; I am honoured you actually wanted to hear me talk about multiple ships whsjdhj 💖💘💗

Wrightdot:

Grace, trying to answer this gave me some sort of quarter-life existential crisis, and I am a bit hysterical rn. Through the laughter and the screaming, I have to admit that... I kind of............ get it??????? I WOULDNT SAY I SHIP IT, BUT, LIKE. THEY'RE SO FUNNY BUT ALSO REALLY SAD AND IM????? IDK WHAT I THINK SJWVSHDHFKDH

Ultimately, though, ULTIMATELY. I can't quite get past the whole 'that is Mia's ex who is still very much in love with her, and her protege' thing. She's played too much of a role in both their lives for them to see very far past her influence on one another, and I don't think it'd be very healthy for them to try pursuing a romantic relationship; because I feel like they'd inevitably end up trying to fill the space Mia left in their lives through the other person which just wouldn't work. I definitely think they should have some sort of a relationship, though! I think Diego cryptically mentoring Phoenix and being very unhelpful most days, but always really solid help deep down, is very fun and kind of important for them post-BttT. I think they should get to truly know one another, beyond the masks and the projection, and Diego has a lot more experience being a lawyer than Phoenix, so he'd definitely be able to help with all the moral quandaries that are bound to come up later on. Plus he'd Get the whole 7-yg Phoenix attitude thing because... he's been there. I think he could've been helpful, and it's a shame we don't get to see them be, if not friends, respected acquaintances.

Alternatively, though, the idea of Phoenix having a casual conversation with Diego only for the fleeting thought of "Wow, he's really attractive" to stop him dead in his tracks and make him question his whole life and go to therapy and Leave the Country™ is so funny to me. Alternatively-alternatively, I get the romance of it. It's the whole pulling back the mask, having someone who really understands you, being accepted in spite of your worst flaws, moving on from grief and loss with another hand in yours and NOPE. I CANT TALK ABOUT THIS. I DONT SHIP IT BUT IDK! IDK!!!! IM THROWING THEM BOTH OFF A CLIFF, AND THEN IM THROWING MYSELF OFF A CLIFF. I AM DONE. GOODBYE.

Franmaya:

Okay, after standing in the shower and staring at a wall for 3 hours, I can talk normally again, which is good because I have to explain this.

I know the people who ship them don't do it in this way, but? Honestly? Franmaya is one of those wlw ships that strike me as two female characters being shoved together because they're left hanging once the main male couple whom everyone actually cares about (nrmts in this case) gets together, and because no one can find anything interesting to say about them as individuals, so now they're lesbians. Yay! (And also because people maybe don't want to be seen as only shipping mlm ships for fear of being told they're fetishising them.) And I know that that's not true and that most Franmaya shippers love both of them individually (as we all should), but something about them always makes me hear the feminine AI TikTok voice going, "Diversity Win 😊👍🎉!" in my head and conjures up images of Western corporate advertisements during the month of June (hence the love is love coca-cola).

And I know this isn't the case, but ???? I think it's mainly because I genuinely do not understand this ship. I don't usually need ships to be supported by canon for me to ship them, but what we've been given by canon doesn't help me see these two as ever being friends, let alone girlfriends. I understand the reasoning of "they both have self-worth issues so they'd understand each other", and that's a perfectly good reason to ship people, but like. I kind of want more? I kind of want them to be able to connect on a level that goes beyond them having similar issues? And probably the folks who do ship Franmaya do have reasons that go beyond that, like maybe Maya teaches Franziska how to lighten up and not take herself so seriously, and Franziska shows Maya that she doesn't always have to be the easiest version of herself to be loved. And that's all lovely! But I... don't want them to fix each other--

See, the versions of Franmaya I've seen floating around either boil them down to a wlw version of nrmts OR they make them out to be this saccharine, perfect, happy lesbian couple who are so, so wonderful and sweet to each other. Which is. Great! I love seeing women happy! But -- I'm sorry -- it's so BORING to me. It always seems to fix them a little (even if it's just around each other), and I like their flaws. I like that Franziska's a bit of an uppity, violent snob, and I like that Maya is a bit of a naive, insecure girl. I don't want them to fix each other, but I've tried twisting them the other way round, too! I've tried giving them the Krisnix treatment where they just amplify each other's worst traits, because they share similar insecurities and would know where to prod to make it hurt, but! I find that even less appealing and workable, tbh. Maya at her worst might let someone walk all over her for momentary wisps of affection disguised as acceptance of her flaws? But she has good and smart friends! Nick would never let her be in a toxic relationship like that, and he'd stay with her until she realises it's bad for her! And Franziska, regardless of how she may feel about being in Edgeworth's shadow, would never let anyone else even suggest that to her. The moment she gets a hint of that kind of disrespect, she is gone. She doesn't need you, make no mistake of that.

And it all really comes back to the fact that I can't see them connecting as friends. With Emaziska, I could see how they could be genuinely good friends and then more, but with Franmaya it's just... Not there for me. I can't see them progressing beyond the "oh, that's my little-older brother's friend's sister" stage the way you might be "friends" with your parents' friend's kids, you know? Like, yeah, you guess you're friends with them, but it's nothing serious or real. That's how I view their relationship. I'm not averse to being persuaded to ship them (in fact, I'd like to have them explained to me; they have cute art!) but I have tried and ehhh?? Doesnt do much for me, sorry, Franmaya 😔

[alstroemerian-dragon]

Hi I saw your tags on that hajihiko art and that bit about your fic sounds really interesting if you don’t mind I kinda wanna hear more if not then I’ll happily wait for the fic!

youve activated my trap card aka asking me to explain my thoughts !!!! this might get long

my fic is basically a long form. uh. character study? relationship study? thats pretty much just hajime and fuyuhiko having Very Intimate And Personal Conversations (Five Times!) over the first. year? post wake up. and in one of them they have a lengthy discussion about the whole concept of any of them having kids

because hiko is like. hiko is the kind of person who is Very Practical And Realistic (though some may say Pessimistic). and he is of the opinion that things can only be calm and good for so long before shit hits the fan again right? so, in that case, having children with them is only going to make things worse. first, putting kids into an actively dangerous situation is pretty high up in his List Of Terrible Fucking Things Someone Can Do (which is fair, because it is, but also because. Yknow. Personal Experience). second, children being with them is, from a purely practical standpoint, going to be a Huge amount of baggage if they ever need to Leave Right Now Very Quickly. kids are also an ENORMOUS weakness if the enemy ever discovers their existence. so in his mind, theyre a huge disadvantage and just generally a Terrible Fucking Idea.

weirdly enough, though, in the conversation, this is not his argument. because in the circumstances, theyre both kind of in a very vulnerable and open place for this conversation, and so he comes at it from an emotional standpoint. and fuyuhikos emotions around them having kids are complicated.

theres the guilt, right? theyre all classified as war criminals, basically, and are guilty of some of the most heinous acts known to man. they may be being left alone, and they may be repentant and in recovery NOW, but the effects of their actions are gonna be felt for a long time, probably decades. do they even deserve the joy of childcare? of having their own children and raising them and seeing them grow? additionally, they have no idea how long theyre gonna be stuck on those islands. maybe even forever. keeping their kids trapped there when they did nothing wrong aside from. well. Being The Kids Of The Remnants. is almost cruel, right? but if they dont want that, they basically have to give their kids up at some point, maybe even to the future foundation to be integrated into the new world. but when do you do that? when theyre babies, so they never know who their real parents are and never have to reckon with the impact they had on the world? or when theyre young adults, with the full knowledge of what their parents did and who they are, and that the world, which will definitely be utterly fucked for a long time even after the tragedy is officially classified as ‘over’ (whatever that means), will despise them just by virtue of who gave birth to them?

either way, theyre gonna lose their kids at some point. and thats going to hurt. not just the kids themselves, being thrust into a world like that, but the remnants too. those are their children.

fuyuhiko also just… has a lot of guilt and fear around having kids because of his upbringing. you cant tell me he isnt so afraid of turning into his parents, of endangering his own kids, of being too angry and too volatile and too broken to care for them properly. so in his mind, the only real fix to the situation is to just never have them in the first place.

but hajime… hajimes situation is a lot different. first off, in my funny little brain space hajime is very very much a trans man, and though his relationship with identity and gender specifically is very messy due to The Horrors, he clings to his identity as a man in the same way he clings to the name hajime hinata, as an anchor to stability and purpose. if he is hajime hinata, then he is also a man, because hajime hinata was one. this is of course a huge simplification and i could make a whole other post about hajimes fucked up gender shit but its NOT THIS ONE so were moving on. anyway, his relationship with having his own kids therefore is very complicated, as many trans men will tell you, and this is… complicated by another thing i wont go into because its very sad and not really the point and also kind of a spoiler. anyway.

but aside from just himself, hajime is also extremely practical. the difference between his practicality and fuyuhikos is that while fuyuhiko’s practicality is rooted in a childhood of danger and violence and ruthlessness, hajimes is rooted in analytics, because thats just the way his brain works now. numbers and percentages and chance. on top of that, though, what balances out that practicality is that in hajimes brain, one of the most important things about Being Human is Having Human Connections. its how he fights the boredom, fights off the constantly encroaching emptiness in the back of his head. people are complicated and messy and a lot more unpredictable than his izuru conditioning would have had him believe, and he revels in that, in understanding that people have habits and recognizable traits while also doing the weirdest shit possible when you least expect it. having human connections helps him feel human, helps him feel his emotions the most strongly, and he clings to that.

so he understands, on a very base level, why some of them would want children. he understands that a lot of them probably will when they wake up. he understands that they will all adore those kids when theyre born, that the fifteen of them will be a village, will do everything in their power to make sure those kids are happy and safe and understand the dangers of the world while not being subjected to the worst of it until theyre ready.

but hajime also understands philosophy and psychology on a very high level. because you know. the horrors. so he also can reckon with the fact that its not an easy question to answer. should they have kids? would it be ethical to have kids? they dont have an answer thats going to satisfy everyone. some of them are going to stubbornly insist none of them should. some of them are going to be desperate for them. some of them arent going to care. hes skilled in medical knowledge (again, the horrors), and if there are accidents they can be dealt with, but some people arent going to want that. he and/or mikan could probably handle childbirth, as long as theyre not actively in danger, but again, theres the question of whether they even should.

thats. the basis of their conversation. they dont end up with an answer, and i dont think i honestly have one either. could they potentially have children at some point in their lives? probably, yeah. but the logistics of that, of when they would, when the kids would leave, how they would be raised, is a lot more complicated than just ‘cute domestic childcare.’

BUT THATS. yeah. its really funny that this ended up so long because that conversation is maybe a whole 18% of the total length of that chapter and thats. being lax on what constitutes as ‘part of that conversation’ fjshfjsjfjjsjs. the thing about me is that i can not shut the fuck up to save my life, so they discuss like. SIX different topics in that conversation. it makes me very afraid that people wont be able to follow it or will get tired of all the dialogue but. Thats Just Something I Will Have To Deal With.

someday ill post this fucking fanfiction. im trying to get at least. four? of the chapters done before i start posting because i have a long history of starting to post chapters/segments of a fic only for my fixation to crumble and then i never finish it. im hoping building up engagement w this blog will help so people will talk to me and keep my writing lmao. im glad youre interested though!!!!!! ive put a lot of love into all the writing ive done for dr so far

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The movies animated and make by the same people who made the original show

The ATLA movie is made by the original creators? :D That's promising!

[facelessinthecrowd]

💋 - How does your muse feel about people who cheat? Do they see a reason for it, or is it completely immoral?

🎁 - Does your muse celebrate their birthday? If yes, how do they celebrate? If no, why not?

Thought Provoking Headcanons || @reverdies (thank you!)

1) Ooh, this is a good one! Meg is fairly neutral when it comes to cheating. Growing up surrounded by the occupants of an opera house, Meg was very familiar with affairs and extramarital relationships. Of course, despite being used to them, it didn't necessarily mean she agreed with them. Raised by the church, it was heavily frowned upon and her mother discouraged it too.

As soon as she found herself in America, her own opinion on cheating and affairs changed almost overnight. As soon as her mother used her as a pawn to establish their future, Meg realised that people just believed things until it no longer benefitted them to. The investors she was paired with were hardly single, but it didn't matter to them. If it didn't matter to them, why should it matter to her? She had loyalties to no-one on these shores other than her mother.

And in her naivety, she truly believed her mother knew best.

As she grew older and increasingly bitter, she simply didn't care any more. In her eyes, if someone was going to cheat then nothing would stop them, but she felt not moral confliction in them committing the act. She was doing a job, they were choosing to be unfaithful; the blame was on their shoulders alone.

2) Meg used to celebrate her birthday. Never grandiosely, but always with her mother and closest friends.

Now, she hardly every remembers her birthday when it does come around. Her mother might mention it or gift her something small, but it always catches her off guard.

She prefers not to think too much about it. With every year that passes, she can't help but feel the failure that comes with getting older but not being where she expected to be at that age. That, and she's aware that the older she gets, the shorter lived her career becomes.

The anxiety of not knowing what the future holds is another reason she prefers not to bring any attention to her birthday. She's found that taking it one day at a time is the easiest way to continue pushing forwards.

[cohldhands]

2 💭

I don’t know how I missed this :’) ah, and #2 wip is After Dark, which is a revamp of the same-title cyberpunk/ urban fantasy wip I had on here a long while ago! I haven’t made an official (re)intro for it yet, so this will be fun 😎

💭 Is there a line or scene you can see clearly already?

Oooooo there are so many, but the one I’m most looking forward to is when Calista finds her first demon (which surprise ! aren’t supposed to exist). It’s in this back alley club’s basement (giving very much back rooms vibes but painted in neon red lighting) and it just peers out. It’s so vivid in my head, just this massive body of a man and these terrifying eyes. And then a chase ensues.

[cornerstonc]

❝  he has the strength of an ox. and sadly the grace of an ox as well.  ❞ - someone commenting about Cat King haha

There’s a stuttering quirk to Natori’s muzzle at the comment as he gazes out at where the subject of their conversation is enthusiastically doing his damnedest to imitate an excited muskox prancing about an antique store, but the lifting of his brow means his smile appears rather more pitying than it does amused. Perhaps it should worry him, or annoy him, that characteristic lack of grace, but something about the familiarity of it all simply leaves him wanting to smile.

So, glancing to his company from the corner of his eye, that very smile falling, he responds, “Not too loudly, now. His Majesty is an unforgiving sort.”

[captainderyn]

🍍: Where does your OC feel most comfortable? 🎂: Has your OC have any contradictory interests or traits to the first perception people have of them? How do they surprise people? // for Ryn and/or SWTOR beloved(s?) of your choice <3

Whoo! Finally getting around to this as my schedule has somewhat of a break and I want to procrastinate doing the work I currently need to do xD Going to do this for Ryn because I'm back on the Mass Effect brain rot.

🍍: Where does your OC feel most comfortable?

This is a hard one for Ryn, because the longer the events of the trilogy go on, the less and less she's able to settle and the less comfortable she is even in her own body (especially in ME2 and going into ME3).

The overall consensus is she feels most comfortable wherever she isn't alone. So her cabin, on her own, is the last place she wants to be most of the time. However its a Catch 22 for her; she hates being alone when she's in times of stress, but she does not want her stress to be read by those around her and cause them distress. So often she ends up isolating herself anyways in moments like that.

Many times she'll seek out others. Usually that means finding Garrus wherever he's at, because he's her best friend before he's anything else, or Tali. It isn't unheard of for Ryn to call moral movie nights or other bonding times when she's stressed and wants company. If she's breaking out the popcorn and the tv remote they know something's up.

An aside aside, when she gets really distressed, like on the edge of a break kind of stressed, she wedges herself in the corner of the bathroom. If she had a bigger closet it would be in there. Something about the smaller, confined space--usually with the lights dimmed or off--is like a barrier from the rest of the world. It's quieter somehow.

--

🎂: Has your OC have any contradictory interests or traits to the first perception people have of them? How do they surprise people?

When people look at Ryn and on the outside see a 6ft tall, buff af Alliance officer they probably think "oh good. Another soldier type. Gym, booze, rinse and repeat". Or they think she must be super serious at all times.

Which is wrong. Ryn laughs a lot (well...hm. She did prior to ME3) and she's very goofy. She's the smile of the crew, the laugh that everyone can hear all the way across the ship. She's the one who takes all the stupid dares the crew gives her and tries them (much to the distress of the medbay supplies). Ryn is serious when she's working and serious in all regards that need to be serious but that is not her permanent state...(until ME3 when that smile starts to fade and her laugh appears less often--sorry, sorry)

People usually have this larger-than-life perception of Ryn, as this constant state of heroic Commander Shepard, and are pretty surprised to find she's human just like everyone else.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Fuck, the way he says "the ladies behind the windows" goes straight to my heart. Thats 14 year old Jamie right there

This whole scene, nonny…

There’s such an ambiguity in the text here – in how Jamie tells the story – that I find really intriguing (and heartbreaking). On the one hand, it’s clear from the way he details his first experience in Amsterdam that he is very aware that this isn’t a happy story; how he frames his tale, those little pauses, the hesitation, the tone of his voice… Jamie is under no illusion that this was a reasonable or good thing for his father to do.

But at the same time, when Roy suggests it was traumatic, Jamie does not even intially recognize that Roy means that it would have been traumatizing for Jamie.

I don’t think he’s being funny here, by the way, or trying to deflect. I think he just assumes that Roy will take a jab at him, because that’s what Roy usually does, and he responds with typical Jamie arrogance. (I also don’t think this is empty bravado; I think Jamie really believes she loved it. Believed, at least: if he gave it a proper think now, all these years later and with what he now understands about the world, he might reconsider, but Jamie pointedly doesn’t think too much about this encounter; that’s kind of my point.)

And then, when he gets it, he just doesn’t know how to answer. Was it traumatic? No. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t remember. And there’s a number of unhappy reasons as to why that might be, but what gets me here is that Jamie’s clearly never even considered the possibility that this might have been a traumatic event, in spite of understanding that the situation was not a good one.

It’s like he knew this was a fucked up thing for his father to do, but for Jamie that only ever translated as ”my dad is a piece of shit” and never “that was a bad thing that happened to me”? There’s a disconnect here (and that from someone who is generally very much in touch with his emotions) and it tears and rips at my heart and my brain.

[squigglywindy]

Seems we’re both having a bit of a day.

So I come with hugs.

Thank you for the hugs!!! <3

[ocdhuacheng]

please. that post about japan being right next to the states is not gay sex. japan has its problems but we deserve better than that… :(

?

[satorusugurugurl]

JJK Men Making Up With You After A Fight

Characters: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna, FAB!Reader

Content Warning: sex, makeup sex, fighting, public sex, choking, dirty talk!

Word Count: 5,453

A/N: Hot diggity damn, makeup sex time. Gojo’s had me cackling!! As always, requests are open!! I don’t bite. . unless you ask nicely 😈

Gojo Satoru

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you ignored it, much like the other ten times it rang. You instead headed for the concession stand at the theater. Your boyfriend, Satoru Gojo, had pissed you off beyond all means. He'd forgotten all about your date. The specific date you had been planning for a month. You intended to celebrate at the fanciest restaurant and made reservations two weeks ago. All for him! Because they had world-class desserts.

You got there before him; they took you to your private table. Where you waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, forty-five minutes later, you called him.

“Hey, babe!” He said over the sound background chatter. “What's up? I'm out at the new cafe with Suguru and Nanami!”

“Oh?” Gritting your teeth, you tapped your nails against the table. “Are you having fun?” The tone of your voice was bitter and cold.

Your boyfriend hesitated, “Uhm yeah, the desserts are delicious.” Rage boiled in your gut.

“You know who else has delicious desserts?” He hummed, but you didn't give him a chance to answer. “The restaurant I'm at! You know the one I made reservations for three weeks ago?!”

You could practically see the fear in your boyfriend's voice. “Oh fuck, shit! That was tonight?! Stay there; I'll be there in a couple of minutes.” Your eyes stung with unshed tears.

“No, you can come, but I won't be here.”

You had done just as you said, quickly paying for your tab before hurrying out of the restaurant before Gojo could teleport there. You crossed the street, heading towards the movie theater. There was not a chance in hell he would find you in here. You were heartbroken; all the effort you put into your date was wasted.

You sat in the very back of the empty theater. You were feeling some ease that there was no one here. Then again, they were playing older movies anyone could stream nowadays. You seriously doubted anyone would be joining you to watch Titanic. You could zone out, cool down, and try to figure out what to say to Satoru the next time you see him.

As the opening credits started to play, you heard a door slam open. Peeking down, you choked on popcorn as you noticed your boyfriend scanning the theater. Bright blue eyes seemed to glow as he held his blindfold in one hand. Fuck! Fuck! Fuckin stupid Six-Eyes! Those blue eyes instantly found you, and you could see the relief wash over Satoru. You hid your face behind the bucket of popcorn, internally groaning as you heard him bounding up the stairs.

“Y/N! Why didn’t you wait for me?!” You ignored him, slowly lowering the bucket to stare at the movie screen. “Hey, hello?”

“Shh!” You scolded before stuffing more popcorn in your mouth. Avoiding his questions altogether.

His shoes stepped over the soda-sticky floor, blocking your view of the screen. “We need to talk.” His hand gently reached out, index finger lifting your chin to look up at him.

“Fuck you.” You said, getting up and moving further down the row, plopping down in a seat.

“Y/N baby!” The groan he let out had you rolling your eyes. “Please, I’m sorry I forgot!” He bounded after you, only for you to get up stepping into the lower row. Your action had Gojo stopping in his tracks, the two of you staring at each other. “Are you playing keep away?”

A rich laugh escaped him, one that was full of humor and delight. It had him hunching over as he cackled. You hated it, but you found your smile tugging at your lips. Here he was, groaning and whining like a child, and you weren’t any better. You were running away from him, pouting like a toddler that didn’t get their way.

Gojo’s laughter the tears forming in his eyes, had your heart feeling lighter. God, he was such a cutie. A cutie who forgot all about your date. A date you’d spent time, money, and energy on! All for his benefit. Holy shit, the Gojo charm almost had you forgiving him!

“No!” You snapped, stomping down your foot like the mature adult you were. “Shut up! I’m mad at you.”

Turning to head further down the row, you gasped as Satoru jumped over the row, landing right in front of you. “Look, just give me a chan—“ he started before you threw a handful of popcorn in his face, “okay, and here I thought I was the immature one.” His tongue darted out, licking at the salty butter off the corner of his mouth.

“You are! Toru, seriously! I put all that time and effort into planning that for you!!” You threw another piece directly at his forehead. He allowed the abuse with the popcorn to continue. He was staring at you as you tossed another piece at him.

“Are you done now?” He asked as you hugged the bucket to your chest. “Awesome, cool.” He reached out, ruffling your hair. “I can’t make up for missing the date that I seriously appreciate you planning and paying for. I can, however, make the most out of the night I fucked up.”

“How do you plan on doing that?” You flung one more piece of popcorn at him. It hit infinity before he snatched the bucket from you, placing it in one of the empty chairs.

“You’ll see.” A childlike smile was plastered across his face as he ran down the stairs, grabbing two bags before running back up to you. “We might not be at the fanciest of restaurants.” Your heart soared as he held out a take-out bag from the restaurant where you had made reservations. “But dinner and the Titanic?” He learned by pressing his forehead against yours. “Sounds like a great fuckin’ date to me.”

Taking the bag out of Satoru’s hands, you sighed, your fingers grazing over his longer ones. He didn’t have to pick up dinner from the restaurant you planned to take him to. Satoru didn't even need to try to find you when he knew you were angry, yet here he was—trying to prove to you just how sorry he was. Those were some of the things you loved about him. Cocky, annoying, and charming in more ways than one.

With your free hand, you grab onto Satoru’s wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Has anyone told you that you're a charming asshole?” Seeing your smile, Satoru let out a sigh of relief before intertwining your fingers.

“Nope, that one's new.”

“Don't push it.”

“Yes, ma’am!” He grabbed the popcorn bucket before following you back to the top row. The two of you cracked open the takeout containers, eating the delicious food while whispering as you watched the movie.

Halfway through the food and movie, you hummed, watching the infamous steamy car scene before you turned to Satoru, who yawned. “Hey, Toru.” he tilted his head, turning to look down at you. “Do you think we could recreate this scene?” He perked up. “In a veil?”

“Oh, holy fuck!” You yelled, hand gripping Satoru’s shoulder as you bounced up and down on his cock. “Fuck, oooh fuck!”

Your boyfriend's head was tilted back against the chair. Whines and whimpers escaped his pressed lips as you slammed yourself up and down as hard and as fast as you could. The tiny viel Satoru had put around the two of you was keeping you concealed, and the heat within the small space.

The thick, musky, almost sweet smell of sex was getting to you, making you hotter and hornier. Knowing the two of you were fucking in such an open space, without people knowing, God, it was so hot. You were going to fuck Toru’s brains out as both punishment for forgetting your date and for making it one you would never forget.

“Y/N, please,” Satoru cried out, “please fuck.”

“Please, what, Toru~?” You cooed, rocking yourself back and forth on his dick, making his jaw drop into a wide ‘O’. “Tell me what you want baby~”

“I wanna cum; I wanna cum in your pussy.” He begged, his hands groping and massaging your breasts. “Please, baby~?”

You giggle just before you can respond to the people entering the theater. The cleaning ushers, no doubt. Your body seized up, clamping down on Satoru’s cock, causing him to growl. Your hand flew up, covering his mouth as you listened to the staff talking. While they couldn’t see you, the thought of strangers walking around while you had sex, god, it made you wetter than wet.

Keeping your hand over Satoru’s mouth, you fucked yourself down on him like he was your own personal dildo. His whines grew louder under your hand as he gripped your ass, helping you fuck yourself on him. He was so close, so, so close.

All he needed was a little push. That push is your twitching cunt. You rocked faster, your free hand resting over his chest, as you felt your orgasm coming in fast before your back arched. A silent scream etched your face as you came hard. Satoru gaped into your eyes, eyebrows furrowed together, as one hand gripped your ass and the other smacked into the veil.

Or rather, through it.

A bloody murder scream came from one of the workers as a disembodied hand popped out of thin air. The co-workers followed her out, screaming and yelling. At the same time, Satoru pulled his hand back inside the veil. The two of you were coming down, your bare chest resting against his. You just stared at each other for a long moment before you both started to giggle loudly.

“G-Guess the handprint scene doesn't work well in the veil.” Satoru chuckled, cupping strands of hair behind your ear.

“Guess not.” Was your confirmation, as you slowly pulled yourself off of Satoru’s lap with a wince. “Such a shame. I was hoping for better results.”

“Hmm, it might not work with the veil, but I have an idea where we could try because I’m not done yet. I still haven't apologized to you in the way you deserve.”

“Oh?” You both picked up your trash and readjusted your clothes as Satoru lowered the veil.

“Yeah, I wanna apologize to you in the shower, in our bed, fuck even the balcony.” The two of you ran for the exit door. “It's a good thing that the restaurant you picked out is known for the aphrodisiac desserts.”

“Wait, what?”

“Oooh, sweetie,” Satoru sneered down at you with a mischievous chuckle.“Why do you think I kept bugging you to take me to that restaurant?”

It was going to be a very long night for you.

Nanami Kento:

“Damn!” The soft curse woke you up; you rubbed your eyes, watching your fiancè searching for something on the dresser.

“Kento?” Your groggy voice drew his attention towards you. “Welcome home.”

Your beloved fiance had been gone for two weeks. He'd just gotten home last night; Gojo had picked him up for you. You had been working your ass off for the previous two weeks. You picked up the work of another co-worker who had just walked out without notice. Gojo knew you had been running around for two weeks filing paperwork, assigning missions, and helping Shoko. He was instant on you getting some sleep. He assured you he'd get Nanami, and you were thankful for him doing that for you.

This way, you could spend more time with Kento.

“Where are my cufflinks?” Nanako snapped, his eyes full of annoyance.

His tone had you blinking in stunned silence. “Right there,” you motioned to the box he always kept them in, “was your mission rough?” That would explain his cold, sharp tone.

“Yes, Y/N, it was rough.” He opened the box, grabbing the links before slamming it shut. “You wouldn't understand.”

His words sliced through you like a hot knife. “Excuse me?” You three the sheets off your body, standing to face him. “What the hell do you mean I wouldn't understand?!” Nanami Kento rolled his eyes at your anger.

“I'm simply stating the truth. You don't understand what it's like to go out on missions, fight, and do more than paperwork.” His hand ran through his still-damp hair. “So I'm just trying to understand why you couldn't pick me up last night. Gojo told me that you were burning the candle at both ends. I fail to see how that is even possible.”

The bedroom was nearly silent. The only sound that you could hear over the boiling rage was your heartbeat in your ears. “Get out of my way.” Was all you could manage as you pushed past him, digging through your drawers for clothes.

“Honestly, why are you acting like a child?”

“Why are you acting like a dick?!” Nanako was seconds from snapping back, but his words evaded him when he saw you crying. “You have no idea how hard my job is!” Your hands wiped uselessly at the stream of tears. “My worthless coworker quit. So I'm stuck doing my job and hers!”

“Y/N.”

“Yes! I do loads of paperwork, and I sit in front of a computer most of my day.” You pulled on your pants, stepping out of Nanami’s grasp. “It may not be physically demanding, but in a mental aspect, I'm drained. Paperwork, mission assignments, and death notices!” Honey-brown eyes went wide. “Yeah, that's why my coworker quit! She couldn't handle it!”

“Love, I—”

You held a hand up, silencing Nanami. “So last night, Gojo picked you up instead of me because I was in Kyoto. Telling a mother and father that their eighteen-year-old son died!” Flashes of Yu Haibara flashed through Nanami’s eyes.

He could barely handle his death, imagining what his parents went through. When someone in your position told them that their child was gone, he couldn't even begin to imagine what that must have been like. Emotionally and mentally draining. He had no idea how much your job consisted of because you hardly brought it up. More concerned with him.

“Y/N, I had no clue—”

“No, fuck you.” You turned on your heel, racing for the door. “Welcome home! Kindly go fuck yourself.” With those words, you left, leaving Nanami alone in your apartment.

It took you a couple of hours to cry out your feelings. The exhaustion and stress of the last two weeks hit you all at once with Nanami’s cruel words. He had no clue what you went through without him here. It didn't matter if he was just as exhausted as you were. Both of you had been ground to bones in two weeks apart.

Despite all of those factors, he still had no right to talk to you the way he had.

But as much as you wanted to stay away from him, your apartment, reality, you had to go back. Your engagement ring glimmered as a stupid reminder, even if he had crossed a line today. Nanami was still the love of your life.

The second you unlocked the door to the apartment, you sighed. “I'm home.” Your voice was barely audible.

Just as you finished removing your shoes, you looked up to see Nanami. His cheeks and neck flushed as he looked at the floor. Your fiance looked like a dog that had been scolded, as he should. Despite wanting to throw yourself into his arms and cry out your frustration, to hit, to beg him to hold you tight, you just walked past him.

Entering your living room, your heart lurched into your throat as you gasped. A large bouquet of roses is on your coffee table, surrounded by all your favorite snacks. The words ‘I’m Sorry’ were spelled in rose petals on the floor.

You had thought you were incapable of crying anymore, yet fresh tears spilled over your tear-stained cheeks. Nanami’s body looked over you, his hands hesitantly rubbing your shoulders. To Nanami’s relief, you didn't attempt to pull away.

“Y/N, I'm so, so, sorry.” you leaned back into his chest, sniffling as you wiped at your eyes. “The way that I acted this morning was utterly disgusting. I took my frustration and anger out on you, the last person I should ever hurt.” His fingers began kneading and rubbing at your sore muscles. “Could you ever find it in your heart to forgive me? For being an irrational ass?”

”A major ass.” Nanami’s whole body relaxed at your soft voice.

He turned you around to face him, his strong arms holding you flush against him. “Yes, a total and complete asshole.” Once your arms wrapped around his waist, he fully relaxed. ”Are you okay?” His smooth voice whispered, his chin resting on top of your head. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“No, I just want you.”

Pulling away to look up at him, he noticed the dark circles under your eyes. “Yeah? Do you need me to help you fall asleep?” His hand trailed down, gripping your hips. Your nod was the only confirmation he needed.

Sprawled out over the bed, candles burning, soft music playing, you gasped and whimpered. Nanami’s face was buried between your thighs, kissing and sucking at your drenched folds. Those honey-brown eyes that had been filled with concern and worry earlier were now drowning in lust. His needs could wait until later. This was all about you, making you feel better.

”Fuck Ken!” Your fingers grazed over his undercut before gripping the longer strands of hair. “Don’t stop, please, fuck.” Obeying your wishes, Kento’s tongue moved faster. Sucking and slurping at you. Quenching the thirst he had been craving for the last two weeks. “Yes, yes, yes!’

Feeling your cunt clenching, Kento shoved two fingers inside of you, his tongue focusing on your clit. You gasped, eyes wide as his two fingers rubbed expertly against your g-spot. You swore he nearly sent you to heaven as white spots flooded your vision. You screamed before squirting all over his face. The sensation, the taste of your cum had him rutting his hips into the mattress. His tongue did not once let up. It was your orgasm, the content sigh that left your lips that had him stiffening. His cock spurting cum all within the confines of his boxers and sweats.

Your dazy eyes trailed down over your nude body, focusing on Kento’s rutting form. Humping the mattress until the last waves of both of your orgasms came to an end. Kento hummed, his voice vibrated against your still trembling pussy. When he found the strength to pull away, You smiled as he trailed soft kisses up your thighs, hips, stomach, and chest before finally landing on your lips.

You kiss back softly, his arms pulling you close as he pulls you to lay on his chest. His hands gently caressed up and down your back, a slight frown gracing his face. “Ken,” you kiss his chest, “it’s fine. Please don’t worry about it anymore.” His eyes glanced at you before back at the ceiling, his fingers never once pausing.

“I know, I just, I didn’t know your job consisted of so much.” His eyes shut tight, eyebrows scrunching together. “You do all those reports, help Shoko, inform families of deaths, and on top of that, you take care of our home.”

His words from over, repeated over and over, on a loop. Just a desk job? You didn’t know what he went through. When it was the other way around, he didn’t know what you went through daily. His words were cold and cruel. All because he had taken his exhaustion and frustration out on you. The most important person in his life.

Your slender finger gently rubbed up and down the bridge of his nose. Grounding him, pulling him out of the deep void of his thoughts. Opening his eyes, he was met with your glimmering Y/E/C eyes. Your sleepy gaze and gentle smile had his heart clenching in his chest.

”Ken, it’s okay. You didn’t know, much like I don’t know about all of the struggles you go through.” Your gentle touch had him relaxing against the mattress. “Let’s just agree not to downplay each other again. We both work hard, every day, to make this life for us to share.” Slowly pulling your hand away, you leaned up, kissing his lips. “As long as we come home to each other at the end of the day, that’s all that matters.”

Kento smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. “I couldn’t agree with you more, Y/N.” Your warm, tired smile had him melting. “I’m home.”

“Welcome home, Kento.” You whispered against his lips.

Ryomen Sukuna:

You loved your boyfriend, really you did. But for the last week, he’d been almost insufferable. His younger brother Yuuji was on Spring break. His best friend Megumi had invited him to join him and his family for the week on the beach. Sukuna all but packed Yuuji’s bags for him, ushering the twerp out of the apartment before locking it up, heading to spend the week with you.

It was like his own personal spring break away from his brothers.

Which also was the start of a week from hell for you. At first, the weekend was lovely. The two of you stayed in, had crazy, animalistic sex, and just enjoyed each other. But when Monday rolled around and you left for work, things took a turn.

You came home to find Sukuna’s clothes all around the room, the dishes from breakfast still in the sink, and he was snoring on the couch. At first, you were upset. The poor guy was raising his young brother while their other brother, Choso, was on vacation with some college friends. Sukuna truly did bust his ass for his brothers, so it made sense that he was beat.

So you let it go, picked up, washed the dishes, and made the two of you dinner. It had been somewhat annoying, but it was alright. You wanted to make sure Sukuna got as much rest as he could before he went back to work the following week.

Tuesday afternoon, you came home to a similar situation: clothes everywhere, dishes in the sink, only Sukuna had just returned from the gym. When he got home, he started helping you before taking a shower. Maybe he had just been so interested in getting to the gym that he forgot to do the dishes. That sort of thing happened when you were in a rush, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.

But when you got home today, it was the same damn story. You looked around the apartment, groaning out loud as Sukuna scrolled briefly through Netflix. There were empty soda cans, trash, and, of course, his gym clothes all over the floor. This was not the man you knew.

“Ryomen Sukuna!” Your sharp tone had him turning in your direction. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to find something to watch on Netflix?” He raised an eyebrow as if it wasn’t obvious what he was doing.

“I can see that!” You scrubbed a hand over your face. “I meant all the trash, clothes, and everything!”

“Oooh,” he looked around the apartment, “I’ll get to it.”

You tugged at your hair with an exasperated groan. “That’s not the point! Why are you trashing the place to begin with?”

“I’m on vacation.”

“So?!” Your tone had his full attention now. “When I have a day off, I don’t trash your place.”

Sukuna pinched at the bridge of his nose with a grumble. “Are we seriously going to fight about this?” He narrowed his gaze at you, those eyes you normally adored full of irritation. Irritation that had no right to even be there!

“Yes, we are! How is it fair that I make us breakfast, go to work, come home, and make dinner? On top of that, you expect me to come home and pick up your trash and clothes?”

“Well, I mean, yeah.” The answer that came out of his mouth far faster than you thought. “I mean, that’s your job. It’s what you’re good at.” Sukuna rolled a shoulder as he twirled the remote between his fingers. “I exercise spirits, and you—“ He finally turned, seeing the rage and darkening of your cheeks. “You—are good at caring for the house and cooking.”

Oh, he’d fucked up.

You didn’t say a word. Instead, you scoffed and stormed to the bedroom, slamming the door. Sukuna winced and turned his head to face your room. Perhaps that wasn’t the best choice of words. He had meant to say, well, that you were a good caretaker, wifey material. Now that he was looking around the room, truly taking in the state of your usually well-kept home, your words were beginning to settle in his gut.

Had he been that lazy and messy? The take-out containers, his gym clothes, and empty cans confirmed that, yes, he had. Ever since his brothers left, he didn’t have to move constantly. He didn’t have to take Yuuji to school, helping Choso with homework. He had time to himself, where he didn’t have to ensure everything was in tip-top shapes. This was a chance for him to mellow out and relax.

He’d wanted to spend this mellow time with you, his girlfriend, the most amazing woman he’d ever met. But instead, he’d gotten lazy, stuck in a rut of not having to do such a damn thing. This wasn’t how he normally acted, so why now? Fuck, and to tell you you were nothing but a maid, that it was your job. Yeah, no, he totally fucked up.

You were his girlfriend, partner, and the woman he wanted to spend his life with. Most of his other partners hadn’t been able to handle the fact he was a single dad. He had raised his two brothers, just the three against the world. But you, god, you were an angel. You helped him out, making dinners and teaching him the best ways to cook and stir certain foods, which grocery stores had the best sales. You had made him a better man, a better brother.

And he’d gone and turned himself into a shitty boyfriend, trashing your apartment, making misogynistic comments, hurting you. He had to fix this. Or he might very well end up losing the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Without a second thought, he got up, executing his plan.

You needed an hour and a half to yourself before you had completely calmed down. You glanced at your reflection, whipping at your tear-stained cheeks before entering the living room. All you needed to do was grab something to eat and go back to bed. When you walked out into the messy living room, you stopped.

The trashed room scattered with clothes was completely picked up, and the coasters and books were neatly put back into place. Sukuna was nowhere to be found. So you headed into the kitchen, which was also spotless. No crumbs were on the counters, and the dishes had been cleaned and put away. There was still no sign of Sukuna.

Part of you was still angry and didn’t want to see him. The other part of you wanted to thank him and hear what he had to say. Just as you were pulling your phone out to call him, your door opened. Sukuna stepped in with a bag of takeout. He took his shoes off, placing them where they were supposed to go before he locked the door.

“Suku?” He jumped, startled by your voice. But he slowly turned to you, giving you a remorseful smile.

“Hey,” he put the takeout on the counter, “Y/N, I—“ his cheeks flushed as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “You know I’m not the best with apologies, and I suck at fucking using my words.” With a heavy sigh, he grabbed your hand. “But what I said earlier was fucked up, and I’m sorry. I don’t see you as some maid, I just.” You couldn’t help but smile as he struggled to find the right words. “I don’t want you ever to feel like I don’t appreciate everything you do. You’ve made me a better man, and I unfortunately haven’t been like that this week.”

You hummed, nodding in agreement as you interlaced your fingers with his. “Yeah, you’ve been a manchild. Yuuji would have been more mature than you.” He cringed, dropping his head down. “Then again, you did clean up your mess and pick me some dinner.” Your thumb brushed over his knuckles. “So maybe you haven’t been as bad as you think.” Sukuna was leaning in to kiss you, but you squeezed his hand tighter and tighter until it was almost painful. “But if you ever tell me it’s my job to take care of you or the chores again, I’ll put you in my trunk and help people look for you.”

Your boyfriend winced before nodding in understanding. “Right, yes, understood.” The second your hand softened, he pulled you towards the bedroom. “Come on.” You blushed, watching his back. His neck was a soft, rosy color.

“What are we doing?”

“You’re not doing anything.” He said, pushing you back against the bed. “I’m going to show you how much I appreciate you.”

Oh, and Sukuna did just that. He licked and sucked on your clit until you came. His fingers slammed in and out of you, fucking you until you squirted all over his hand. His smirk was sinister and hungry each time you came. Only when you were fucked out of your mind did he decide to fuck you with his cock.

“Please~ please, Suku~” You panted as he rubbed his cock head up and down your entrance. “Please.”

“Why are you begging?” He grunted as he slid his entire length into you. “You want my cock that bad.” He smirked at your tiny whimpers, his cock stretching you in the most delicious way.

“Yes, yes, I want it.” You grabbed his hand, and he went to hold it, only to watch as you placed it over your throat. “Give it to me.” You felt his cock throb inside of you.

He squeezed without having to be told twice. “Such a dirty slut I have.” He squeezed harder as he pulled out. “Here I’m trying to be romantic.” He slammed into you, the bed creaking under the force. “And my slutty little Y/N wants me to fuck her pussy like I normally do.” You whimpered, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, that’s the best way to show you how much you mean to me, right? Fuckin’ that tight cunt until you can’t walk. Making sure you’re ruined, only I can satisfy you and your needs.” He grabbed your thighs, pressing them to your chest, forcing you into a mating press.

“K-Kuna!” You cried out as he released your throat, his hands fisting the sheets.

“That’s right, scream my fuckin’ name.” He groaned, pressing a searing kiss against your swollen lips. “Scream it, let everyone know how much your boyfriend appreciates you, how good he fucks you.”

His words, the deep thrusts, and your already sensitive pussy clenched. “I-I’m so close.” You cried out, eyes locked on Sukuna’s.

His hips sped up, cock throbbing hard as he growled. “Go on then, cum for me again.” You screamed as he slammed harder and harder into you, sending you over the edge. Your screams were muffled by Sukuna’s growls as he kissed you desperately, fucking you through your orgasm right into his own.

He stilled, lips pressing harder against you as his hit cum filled you. Your soft whines of pleasure had Sukuna’s hips moving slowly until he was sure your pussy was done milking him. Pulling back, Sukuna panted, smirking at the blissed-out look in your eyes—a look he always wanted to see.

“Love you, Suku.” You breathed out, leaning up and kissing him. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. But his large hand cupped your face.

“And I love you and everything you do for me.” Without another word, his lips were on yours, his hips slowly rutting against yours. He intended to make you know just how much you meant to him. Even if that meant you’d have to call out of work tomorrow.

[slutforleeminho]

“i wanna try something.” you breathed out between the hot and messy kisses you were giving minho, his hands gripping your waist tighter and pulling your hips down against his clothed bulge. he was already so hard, it amazed you how you could do the bare minimum and he would be fully erect in just minutes.

“whatever you want, baby.” he looked at you with so much love and admiration. that’s how he always responded to your requests, inside and outside the bedroom. ‘whatever you want, if i have it it’s yours.’ and then he’d kiss you until you forgot what it was you were even asking of him.

“you don’t even know what it is yet. how can you be so sure that you’ll want to?” you moved away from his lips to his neck, leaving little love bites as you went. he sighed when you sucked on the little sensitive spot behind his ear.

“oh baby, it isn’t in my blood to say no to you, especially when you’re sitting on top of me like this. you could tie me down to this bed right now and take me however you wanted and i wouldn’t refuse.” his brows were furrowed and eyes screwed shut, focusing on the feeling of your lips on his skin. he looked so fucked out, which made you wonder if he was just saying those things and not actually meaning them. but you refused to pass this moment up without at least trying. so you sat straight up, separating your top half from his. his eyes shot open and searched you face for the answer as to why you stopped. “did i say something wrong? i’m sorry, love, i didn’t-”

“no, you said exactly what i wanted to hear.” you smirked down at him, waiting for him to realize what you meant and when his eyes widened and you felt his dick twitch through his thin sweatpants you knew he understood. “would you like that? for me to cuff you this bed and have my way with you,” you asked in the most innocent voice you could, a big contrast to your words. “use you however i please.” your words went straight to his throbbing cock.

“yes. fuck, baby please.” his eyes were full of lust and anticipation, his voice so quiet and submissive that you didn’t recognize this person under you at all. you didn’t respond verbally, settling on silently removing yourself from his lap and stripping him of all remaining clothing. you didn’t get naked yourself until the pair of handcuffs you kept in your bedside table were safely securing his wrists to the bed frame above his head. when you did take your clothes off you did so very slowly, taking your time just to see him squirm. Minho didn’t take his eyes off of you once, not until you were back on top of him and the tip of his pulsing cock was pressed against your entrance. he threw his head back and sighed before he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from falling apart beneath you. at least not so soon.

you took in everything about this moment, not wanting to forget anything about it. the way the veins that ran down his arms bulged, to the way he twitched every now and then, seemingly very worked up. his chest rising and falling violently, you’ve never seen him like this, so…. so submissive and pliant. it made you want to eat him alive. you ran your hands up his torso, feeling his hot skin against the palm of your hands. a little whine escaped his lips when you grazed his nipples with your fingernails. his hips rutted up into you, resulting in his swollen tip slipping inside of you. he gasped from the sudden stimulation and raised them higher in search of more. you took both of his nipple in between your fingers and and pinched them. he winced from the pain and looked at you with confusion all over his face.

“bad boy,” his eyes widened. “ i didn’t say you could do that.” you didn’t know why you had said that and immediately regretted it. minho was always the dominant one in your relationship, the one who called the shots, the one who called you a bad girl. and that’s why you were in complete shock when he uttered a quiet “i’m sorry.” you tried to hide your surprise the best you could and continue with your switched roles. “how will you make it up to me?” he scanned the room as if the answer was written on the walls somewhere, and apparently it was cause his eyes lit up as he quickly turned his head to look at you.

“sit on my face.”

“hmmm,” you pretended to think about it. “should i?” he quickly nodded and you chuckled at his eagerness. the thought did have you clenching so you moved up his body until your thighs were on either side of his head. his eyes sparkled as he stared at your dripping sex, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. he looked starved and he just found the perfect meal, so he lifted his head in attempt to attach his lip to your core. he only made it so far before you yanked his head back by his hair. “once again, not asking for permission,” your whole brain chemistry was altered when he basically sobbed, a little tear sliding down the side of his face. “i should punish you,” you were loving this a little too much. “but that will have to wait.” he opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off by completely sitting on his mouth. he didn’t miss a beat before devouring, running his tongue through your folds before nipping and sucking harshly on your clit. his hands were balled up into fists and pulling away from the cuffs, his biceps flexing from the strain on his muscles. the veins on his arms were protruding and you couldn’t keep yourself from running a finger over them, tracing out the greenish blue lines. his skin was on fire, almost too hot for you to touch. almost.

you mindlessly started grinding down on his tongue, riding his face for your own pleasure. you weaved your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you, chasing after the euphoric feeling you knew only he could give you. and after a few more thrusts of his tongue and sucking hard on your clit one last time, you were coming. chest heaving and moaning his name like it’s the only thing you knew. once you came down and moved off of his face minho took a deep breath of air and only then you realized you almost suffocated the poor boy. “aww i’m sorry baby, could you not breathe?” you held the side of his face, wiping away your arousal from the corner of his mouth. he was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer you but that was fine you’d get an answer out of him.

you sank down on his cock completely without so much as a warning. “ah- baby wait- i wasn’t- fuck i wasn’t ready.”

“i don’t need your permission.” you ground yourself against him. he threw his head back against the pillows and arched his back.

“if you keep going i’m gonna come. so please… stop.” he pleaded, his voice was so quiet which was very unlike him, so you knew he was telling the truth, he was about to explode.

“you want me to stop?” you went from grinding to full on bouncy on him now.

“ahh fuck i’m coming!” his eyes screwed shut, bracing himself for quite possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. only for it to be ripped away. his eyes shot open. “why’d you stop?!” he looked infuriated with you, he was so close why would you take that away from him?

“you told me to stop.” you smirked at him. “why? did you want to come? i’m so, so sorry.” you were talking to him like a baby, pouting down at him like he was a child. “well i guess we can consider that your punishment.”

“uncuff me.” he demanded. “now.”

“oh baby i’d love to.” you grinned. “ but i’m not finished with you yet.”

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i’m back!!!!! did you miss me?

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